


look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

by seasalttears



Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: F/F, in my personal opinion, ohhh this is very angry and very sexy, poor baby jen has her husband die and then experiences a midlife sexuality crisis, she really going through it tonight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26851321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasalttears/pseuds/seasalttears
Summary: This woman can’t even get her own fucking drink, no wonder she couldn’t get her own husband.
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Comments: 15
Kudos: 80





	1. take the road less traveled by

**Author's Note:**

> hello YES i am still writing the epilogue for my other fic, but this popped into my brain and i was gonna be too h word until i got it out, so here it is. enjoy.

Jen sits down at a table in the back of the bar after getting a whiskey, facing the door so she can scope out everyone who enters. There’s a steady hum of music playing in the background of all the scenes playing out in front of her—coworkers complaining, couples kissing, friends cheers-ing. Jen sneers, slightly jealous of the way all these people are regularly going about their lives, doing normal things. The dim lighting obscures her presence slightly, but she likes the anonymity while she sits quietly, waiting.

She takes a sip of her whiskey as the door opens, and Jen sees a woman in a floor-length dress glide into the bar effortlessly, taking up space like she belongs. Jen’s sneer deepens, bitterness lying on the tip of her tongue. The woman looks around the bar before spotting Jen, somehow knowing where that is supposed to be, and Jen immediately knows it’s _Judy_. Jen watches as she stops by the bar first, ordering what is presumably the same drink as Jen, and the bitterness grows. This woman can’t even get her own fucking drink, no wonder she couldn’t get her own husband.

Jen waits patiently, letting the anger fill her up, but not quite bubbling over. Judy makes her way over to Jen’s table, hesitance controlling her every move. She sits down across from Jen, a tight look on her face, like she’s already remorseful and awaiting her penance. Jen smirks to herself, doesn’t say anything right away, and just takes a long, slow sip from her glass. Judy mimics her and Jen can see the way her throats moves as she swallows, steeling herself with the burn of something strong. Jen would be lying if she said Judy wasn’t attractive, because she definitely is; there’s something youthful about her—even though she’s probably closer to Jen’s age—and she can understand why Ted was drawn to her.

Jen smiles severely, ending the waiting game. “Do you know who I am?”

Judy looks guilty, like she’s been caught red-handed. “I’m assuming you’re Ted’s wife?”

“Bingo.” Jen takes another sip of her whiskey, not breaking eye contact, and she can see the way Judy’s throat moves as she gulps and fidgets in her seat.

“I am _so_ sorry. I didn’t know he was married, and if I did, I _promise_ you I never would have gotten involved with him—”

“And just how involved with him were you?” Jen starts running her finger around the rim of her glass in slow circles, and she smirks when she notices Judy’s eyes flicker towards the movement.

Judy hesitates, letting her eyes drop to Jen’s hands again before taking a deep, centering breath. “Um, we… we messaged each other for a while and talked about meeting up a few times, but never did.”

Jen tilts her head to the side, “Why not?”

“One of us was usually busy, and he ghosted me before we ever got the chance.”

Jen feels the simmering anger about to spill; she wanted to keep Judy on her toes for a little bit longer, but the confirmation of his affairs sends her down a wrath-induced spiral. She wants to punish Ted, but the opportunity was ripped away from her, so she’s going to punish the woman in front of her instead. “He’s dead.”

“ _What_?”

Judy balks, and Jen lets her sit with the admission for a few seconds before leaning closer and lowering her voice, “Ted is _dead_.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”

“Save it.” Judy abruptly stops, a look of confusion coming over her face. Jen didn’t come here for Judy’s contriteness, and she definitely didn’t come here for pity. She came here to find out what exactly it was about this woman that had Ted halfway out the door in their marriage, and Jen is quickly finding out it is so many things. “Did he tell you he was divorced?”

“Uh, not exactly.” Judy looks awkward now, more than before.

“What, then?” Jen has a feeling she is not going to like the answer.

“He told me he was a widow, that his wife— _you_ , died from breast cancer and he was a single father.”

For the first time tonight, Jen falters. Her breath hitches and her eyes widen a bit before turning away from Judy and trying to blink back the sudden tears forming in her eyes. Of course Ted told Judy that she died from breast cancer—he might as well kill her with the thing that already was, with the thing that killed their marriage. “That bastard.”

“Are you okay?” Judy’s voice is full of concern, her eyes close to something soft, and Jen wants it to disappear. She pulls her anger back from where it went, and feels the familiar warmth of it flowing in her veins.

“No, _Judy_ , I am not okay.”

Judy pulls back and nods, but the concern doesn’t leave her eyes. “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please tell me. You have _no_ idea how sorry I am—”

“Did you want to?”

“Did I want to what?”

“Fuck him.”

“Ted?”

“Yes, _Judy_ , did you want to fuck my husband?”

“Well, I mean, that _is_ kind of the intention of the app…”

Judy looks confused now, but Jen makes sure her face is unreadable; she finds herself wanting to keep Judy on her toes, second-guessing all of her movements and words. “Unfortunately you’ll have to deal with second best.”

Jen doesn’t answer the obvious question on Judy’s face, just stands and pointedly walks to the women’s bathroom, making sure Judy knows where she is heading. For a second Jen worries she will be waiting for a response that never comes, but somehow she knows Judy will follow her. Jen opens the bathroom door and breathes out a sigh of relief that it’s a single use and not full of stalls—she still has standards. She closes the door behind her but doesn’t lock it, and leans back against the sink while watching the door handle, arms crossed, waiting. 

After a minute, it turns, and Judy cautiously enters the bathroom, eyes flickering around the room like she’s trying to find an escape route just in case Jen is going to murder her, but Jen has much more exciting things than murder planned. Judy locks the door behind her, but Jen doesn’t move—just smirks. She knows Judy is scared, but it thrills her to know that Judy isn’t scared enough to not obey.

“I didn’t know what I was going to do when I asked you to meet me here tonight. I just knew I needed to know what you look like, what you sound like.”

“Do you know what you want now?”

Judy hasn’t moved, but Jen can see the way her chest is moving quicker and how her pupils have dilated. If that wasn’t enough, the pink flush that starts at Judy’s cheeks and extends down below the neckline of her dress confirms Jen’s suspicions: she’s aroused. Jen looks up from where she was staring and knows then, that Judy knows what is about to happen. 

“Yes.”

“And what would that be?”

Jen doesn’t answer—she doesn’t need to—just takes a step towards Judy and wraps an arm around her waist, giving her a moment to pull away if she wants to. When Judy doesn’t move, Jen grabs the back of her neck with her other hand and brings their lips together in a bruising kiss. The hum of the music playing in the bar is now a soft throb, similar to the one Jen feels beginning to form inside her. The heavy bass is akin to her heartbeat, pulsing loudly and in time with the way Judy is trying to catch her breath as she pulls away. Jen doesn’t let her feel the reprieve for too long before bringing their mouths back together and turning Judy around, backing her up until they hit the sink.

Judy whimpers at the contact, and it spurs Jen on. Their hands are all over each other, pulling and tugging, but not quite revealing anything; there’s a line neither wants to cross with their words tonight, even if they are crossing so many others. Jen reaches down and pulls Judy’s dress higher up on her thighs, making way for Jen’s hands to explore more of the woman she hates most in the world right now. Judy is almost bucking her hips involuntarily, a silent plea for Jen to reach where they both want her to be right now.

Jen feels the lace on Judy’s underwear before she sees it, and moves her fingers slightly until she can feel how hot and wet Judy is already. She’s so caught up in the intoxicating feeling of Judy against her hand that doesn’t even realize Judy’s hand has snaked its way up her shirt until Judy has already found the origin of Ted’s lie. There isn’t much feeling left, but Jen can still sense the way Judy traces her fingers along one of the scars, a misplaced reverence coating her movements in a moment full of reparations. Judy looks up at her then, eyes conveying something Jen doesn’t want to hear; she gently grabs Judy’s wrist—a stark contrast to the tension permeating the air—and slides it out from under her shirt, bringing it to her waist instead as Jen finally lowers her hand to where Judy wants. They are still looking at each other, neither of them willing to look away, and even though a look of hedonism passes over Judy’s face when Jen brushes her fingers along her clit, Jen can still see the understanding in Judy’s eyes.

Right then, Jen knows Judy is a selfless person. She’s not giving herself freely to Jen purely for her own desires, she was able to sense that Jen needed this—the power, the _control_. Judy is a giver and Jen suddenly wants to take Judy’s goodness and swallow it, letting the flames inside of her burn it to ash. Judy doesn’t get to feel good right now, she only gets to feel the things Jen is doing to her—something on the precipice of pleasure and sacrament.

Judy lets out a particularly loud moan then, her mouth trying to form a word she doesn’t know—and Jen realizes then that Judy probably still doesn’t know her name; she hasn’t said it all night and there’s a good chance Ted never told her. The mystery partially fuels Jen’s movements, her hand quickening its pace as she continues moving her fingers in circles, but it also makes Jen miss something she can’t quite place. She shakes her head as if to rid the thought, and brings her other hand to lightly grab Judy’s neck before leaning down—biting, kissing, marking.

Nothing is gentle, no touch filled with tenderness. Jen wants Judy to wake up with bruises and marks and memories of her transgressions. Jen moves her thumb up to keep pressure on Judy’s clit, and pushes three fingers inside her with no warning, producing a moan from Judy that Jen feels reverberate throughout her entire body. Their breathing is matched in tempo, a song for only them to hear. Jen can faintly hear the noise of people filling the bar, right on the other side of the door, and the thought makes her push her fingers deeper—and if Judy’s resounding groan is anything to go off of, Jen thinks she might be doing something right. She moves her left hand from around Judy’s neck and reaches behind to grab a fistful of hair, hard enough to sting, and tugs until Judy’s throat is fully accessible to Jen’s mouth.

Judy is getting louder now as Jen keeps moving her fingers and thumb in tandem—setting an excruciating pace Judy gets no respite from—and even Jen is worried someone will hear them over the music. She releases her grip on Judy’s hair and covers her mouth instead, looking straight into Judy’s eyes as she manages to thrust her fingers deeper still. It’s electric and the air around them is charged and ready to catch on fire at any moment, matching the temperature of their bodies pressed against one another.

“Is this what you imagined when you messaged my husband? That one day his wife would be fucking you in the bathroom of some bar?” Judy whimpers again and Jen puts more pressure on her clit, Judy’s eyes fluttering shut. “Open your eyes, I want you to look at me when you come.”

Judy opens her eyes docilely then, and Jen isn’t sure what does it—her words or the combination of her merciless fingers—but she suddenly feels Judy tighten around her and go taut, letting out a sound like an amalgamation of a sob and moan, before shuddering and slumping against Jen. They stay like that for a few seconds until Jen pulls her hand away and lets the cold air of the bathroom seep back into her. Judy is still looking at her, so she puts her fingers in her mouth and sucks until every last ounce of Judy is wiped clean from her like confession on sin. Jen thinks she might have heard Judy whimper, but it could have just as easily been her.

Judy pulls her underwear back up the second Jen steps back, and neither of them say anything, but Jen doesn’t think there’s anything left to say. They both got what they came here for, even if Jen is going to be leaving with an ache much larger than the one she came here with. Judy holds up a hand like she was going to reach out for Jen, but inevitably lets it drop to her side again. The silence in the room is deafening, and Jen feels like screaming.

“I—"

“Goodbye, Judy. Thank you for your time.” Jen turns around and exits the bathroom without looking back, but she can still feel the way Judy’s eyes are burning a hole in the back of her head—heat constricting and tightening until Jen almost snaps. She won’t though, because Judy is not going to get under her skin more than she already has.

Jen collapses onto her bed, exhausted from all the different emotions that have coursed through her today. She checks the time, just after midnight, and feels an extreme sense of loneliness wash over her. Tonight—what happened with Judy—is the least lonely Jen has felt since… since before Ted was even dead. Judy is the woman who almost ruined Jen’s marriage for her, and Jen feels sick with realization. She didn’t want to fuck Judy to feel closer to Ted or to punish her—Jen knows tonight was more punishment for herself than anyone else, anyways—she wanted to fuck Judy to _fuck Judy_. At the time she thought she just wanted to teach Judy a lesson, to instill the habit in her to do her research before fucking a possibly married man, but now Jen knows that it was the way Judy was _looking_ at her, the way her mouth moved and her hands articulated. A tidal wave of shame and guilt washes over her then; not only did her husband die, but now she’s having a midlife sexuality crisis. Her life is a fucking joke.

Jen is caught off guard by a sudden beeping, but it’s not from her phone. She opens her nightstand and pulls out Ted’s—she originally kept it charged and available to look at all the photos of their family he had on their camera roll, but now Jen keeps it in her nightstand for very different reasons—and sees a notification for message from Judy that she knows is meant for her. Jen takes a deep breath before opening it, bracing herself for impact after she jumps off the ledge she is standing on.

_If you ever need to let your anger out again, I’m here._

Judy thinks she deserves Jen’s rage, Jen realizes. Judy knows she has played a role in knocking down Jen’s life to the shambles it is, and she thinks she deserves Jen’s retribution. What Judy probably doesn’t realize is that Jen isn’t tying punishment to Judy’s existence because of what she did; Jen is trying to punish herself. So many things had a role to play in Ted’s death and the destruction of his and Jen’s marriage, but Jen and Judy might have the biggest roles yet. Jen chuckles darkly to herself, maybe they deserve each other after all. 

_Next Friday at 8. Same place._


	2. a drug that only worked the first few hundred times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen is overcome with a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy you h word freaks <3
> 
> (special thanks to coll for being my beta, love u bitch)

Jen sighs, downing the last of the wine in her glass. Judy is going to be here in a couple of minutes, and Jen doesn’t think she can get through this night one hundred percent sober. It’s not necessarily an issue, Judy coming over to her house, it’s just  _ weird _ . Up until now, their interactions have been veiled in anonymity in the same bar bathroom, both of them keeping parts of themselves dormant. Jen would honestly keep it that way, if her back wasn’t such a fucking problem.

_ “Oh god, oh god, oh god…” _

__

_ “That’s not my name.” _

__

_ “I don’t know your fucking name—” _

__

_ “Jen.” _

__

_ “Please, please, please Jen, please.” _

__

_ “I’m trying, Judy, but I don’t bend that way.” _

__

_ “Just, here—” _

__

_ Judy shifts, sitting on the sink and motioning for Jen to kneel. Normally Jen would say “fuck you” and keep doing what she was doing with her hand, but the prospect of her mouth on Judy is too enticing to refuse—she hasn’t done that yet—so she kneels. _

It was nothing short of immaculate, and the way Judy felt against her mouth is the reason Jen offered for Judy to come over to her place on a weekend the boys were going to be at Lorna’s. She figured if she was going to have a sexuality crisis, she might as well fully explore it. Nothing else in her life is necessarily bringing enjoyment—besides the boys—so she continues with the one thing that’s bringing something close to it. Jen hasn’t let Judy touch her, and she isn’t sure why. Maybe it has something to do with her need for control over this situation, since she was initially denied it. Judy hasn’t harbored any complaints yet, so Jen is going to continue taking control until she feels like her life is no longer falling apart. 

She can’t deny the parts of her that want Judy to touch her, but she’s not quite willing to let the woman that almost fucked her husband have that privilege yet. Nobody has touched her for almost two years, and Jen isn’t sure if Judy is first person who should; this is the woman that had a role in ruining her life and is somehow still managing to—

The doorbell rings and Jen jumps slightly, lost in her thoughts. She gets up from where she’s sitting at the kitchen island and answers it, finding an already flushed Judy on the other side. Jen doesn’t say anything when Judy smiles at her, just moves aside to let her in. Judy pauses in the entryway, obviously unsure where she’s allowed to go in this space that is so wholly  _ Jen’s. _

“Shall we go upstairs?”

“Getting right down to business, huh?”

“We both know what you came here for.”

Judy cocks her head to the side in an acquiescent manner, and then follows Jen upstairs. Once they enter Jen’s bedroom, an air of tension settles over them both. Never have they crossed such an intimate boundary (even though they’ve already had sex twice), and Jen thinks this might be a mistake. This was the space she shared with her husband—granted he was a lying, cheating bastard, but still—and Judy simultaneously fits in and stands out. Jen has found that Judy tends to take up whole rooms with the things she emits, but here in this room, she shrinks beneath the weight of it all. Jen hopes it’s guilt, but a secret part of her hopes it isn’t. 

Jen stands near the bed, Judy still in the middle of the room. Judy takes a cursory glance around, and when their eyes meet, Jen motions for Judy to join her. Everything is still except for their breathing, and Jen wants to wipe away the closeness they’ve unintentionally created. She grabs Judy’s wrist roughly and brings her closer, a shocked gasp falling from Judy’s lips. Jen silences it with her own, bringing her other hand up to Judy’s neck and keeping her there. 

Since the first time they did this, Judy has slowly been gaining confidence, and it’s a pain in Jen’s ass. This was all supposed to be for her and a sick way to work through the betrayal Ted committed—but now it’s something much more dangerous. Judy’s tongue is killer, and Jen finds that she likes it more than anything. Judy’s touches have become more daring, roving over Jen’s body in ways that are sinful, but always avoiding the area Jen needs somebody the most. That’s not for Judy, though; that’s not for anybody. 

Jen breaks the kiss and their breaths are labored as she reaches for the zipper on the back of Judy’s dress and pulls it down. They’ve never taken off clothes before, but Jen is overcome with the innate desire to see Judy,  _ all _ of Judy. And the way Judy steps out of her dress and kicks it the side confirms to Jen that Judy wants it too. Jen takes in the sight of black lace and feels a heat low in her stomach, so she pushes Judy back on the bed to oxidize it. 

Jen climbs on top of her, thighs on either side of Judy’s waist, and kisses her again. Somewhere in the tangle of limbs they get Judy’s underwear off, and Jen is left with a sight that’s more than she bargained for. Everything about Judy is… well, perfect. No wonder Ted wanted her. Jen wants her too. 

“I can see what Ted liked about you.”

“What do you mean?”

Jen doesn’t answer, just kisses Judy breathless again and trails her hand down the side of Judy’s abdomen, leaving goosebumps in her wake. Jen moves to Judy’s neck and brings a hand up to hold her in place, biting and sucking so Judy can remember why she came here. It’s one of Jen’s favorite things about this arrangement that they’ve agreed on but never talked about; claiming Judy in a way Ted never got to. Sometimes though, Jen wonders if it’s borne out of a need to show Ted up, or if she actually wants it for herself. She doesn’t think about it too often. 

Judy moans, and Jen starts to lower her hand again, but she’s stopped by Judy’s own hand on her wrist. She looks up, a question forming on her lips, but hesitates at what she finds. Judy has a look in her eye that Jen has only seen once, and it was the only time she ever touched Jen. After that, Judy never made a move to it again, and Jen is unsure whether it was Judy being uncomfortable, or just trying to gauge whether or not Jen wants it. 

But the look in Judy’s eyes now—it’s the most intense form of tenderness mixed with desire Jen has ever seen—and it’s fixed on her. Judy hooks her leg and flips them over before Jen realizes what is happening, and she can’t find it within herself to protest. Judy looks like she’s on a mission, determination and resolve set in her brow, and Jen is curious about the destination. 

Judy starts with her pants, unhooking the button and unzipping them. Jen watches as Judy climbs off of her for a second to slide them off her legs before straddling her again. She goes to Jen’s shirt next, slowly unbuttoning each button, one by one, maintaining eye contact with Jen the entire time. Jen rests her hands on Judy’s thighs, looking right back, and it’s quite possibly the most erotic experience she’s ever had. Everything inside Jen is screaming at her to stop this, to do what they usually do before parting ways—but she doesn’t. Each touch Judy delivers silences the screams until Jen is left a mess, wanting this more than anything. 

When Jen’s shirt is thrown across the room, Judy hooks her fingers in Jen’s underwear and looks up, questioning. Jen nods and they work together to get them off to join Jen’s shirt. Judy pauses before grabbing Jen’s hand until she’s sitting up and they’re facing each other. Jen isn’t sure what she’s asking for until she feels Judy’s hand softly touch her waist, moving until it’s resting on the back of her bra. Judy keeps looking at Jen, waiting, every second like an eternity wrapped up in infinity. Time feels like it has slowed, like the only living things to exist are her and Judy, here in this moment. Jen almost tells her  _ no _ , but then she remembers Judy isn’t a mirror, so she nods her head  _ yes _ instead. 

The hooks come undone—much like Jen herself—and Judy slides the straps down Jen’s arms. It joins the rest of their clothes, and Judy leans in to kiss Jen’s chest. Somehow Judy knows to avoid the scars, knows that Jen isn’t ready for that; this is all more than enough for now. Jen feels Judy’s hand trailing down her torso, zigzagging along the edges until she meets Jen’s center. In a moment of panic, Jen grabs Judy’s wrist and pauses her movements; she needs something, she doesn’t know what but she needs—

“You aren’t second best.”

“Huh?”

“When we first met, you told me I would have to settle for second best. But you’re not.”

Jen takes a second before doing anything to look up at Judy, sees the discreet earnestness looking back at her. Without thinking about it too much, Jen silences her fears and moves Judy’s hand down even farther, showing her what feels good. Jen would be embarrassed by how wet she is if Judy wasn’t such a fast learner and making Jen moan faster than she thought possible. Jen’s never been particularly particularly quiet in bed, but she’s never been loud either. With Judy though… Jen thinks she might come faster than she would like when having sex for the first time in years. Judy continues circling her clit with two fingers before pulling away and before Jen can protest, Judy is pushing two fingers into her and Jen lets out a guttural groan, head falling back against the pillow. 

Jen has a fleeting thought in between the flashes of pleasure coursing through her, and it takes everything within her to follow through. She lets go of the duvet bundled tight in her fist, and swiftly moves her hand down Judy’s torso until they are both knuckle deep inside of each other. Judy gasps, her hand pausing inside Jen as she welcomes the sudden intrusion. Jen gives her a few seconds before moving, and it snaps Judy back into her movements too. Jen already knows what Judy likes, so she brings her thumb to Judy’s clit and begins the small circular motions that make her fall apart. Judy mimics her, and Jen’s hips buck involuntarily against the sensation, so overwhelming and so, so  _ good _ . 

The room is filled with their pants and the slide of wet skin on wet skin. Jen is close, and she works harder until she can start to feel Judy’s walls contract around her fingers. It takes everything in her to keep going, the white-hot heat low in her stomach burning bright. Judy looks at her then, and Jen is compelled to look back, eyes locking in some sort of battle. Jen is about to come, she can tell, but there’s something in Judy she feels the need to look at first; every one of their simultaneous thrusts leads Jen closer to orgasm and closer to a realization. 

Oh  _ fuck _ —

Jen likes Judy. She likes her. This woman that almost slept with her husband and flirted with him up until the moment he died has somehow managed to snake her way into Jen’s mind and never leave. She knows she would have never let Judy touch her if part of Jen didn’t like her. Jen knows this is wrong—everything about what they’re doing—but something in her can’t help but notice the way Judy is so relenting and willing to give; the way Judy radiates kindness and compassion even while she’s fucking Jen better than Ted ever did on the bed they shared. This can’t be happening, Jen can’t be falling for her. She deserves  _ more _ , and she needs Judy to know that before they’re both spasming against each other’s hands. 

“I hate you.”

Judy hasn’t looked away, just keeps looking at Jen as she replies, “I know.”

And then Jen has the best orgasm of her life, Judy following along. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> @jensblazerhoard on twitter


End file.
